


this won't stop til i say so

by platonics



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Cats, Complicated Relationships, Corruption, Developing Relationship, Dubious Science, Flashbacks, Late Night Conversations, Minor Character Death, Murder, Nonbinary Character, Other, Post-Canon, Resurrection, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-04 22:55:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21205439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/platonics/pseuds/platonics
Summary: Years after Danganronpa, all Himiko wants is to get the justice she deserves and move on with her life. Nothing is ever that simple.





	this won't stop til i say so

**Author's Note:**

> this is a slight au where tsumugi manages to escape execution along with the 3 canon survivors

“Well, that could’ve gone better.”

“That could’ve gone better? Really? That’s all you have to say?” 

Himiko stood there, gaping. She could hardly believe what she just heard. It was the understatement of all understatements. The rain was coming down hard, providing a steady patter of white noise, but it wasn’t loud enough to mask the echoes of their voices. She could only hope that no one else was around. She shifted from foot to foot, eyes continually darting to her right, up the dim stairwell. Not that it mattered much. There was nowhere to hide.

“Please calm yourself. It’s beginning to get on my nerves. I seem to recall you being much quieter...bit of a shame you’ve lost that quality, if you ask me. It was quite becoming. Not that there’s anything wrong with being more expressive, mind you. In most situations it can be a beautiful quality indeed, but variety is one of the things that makes our world so fascinating, wouldn’t you agree? To see how you’ve conformed to others’ expectations for you, well, I suppose I’m merely trying to convey my sympathies.” They kept talking, but Himiko found herself almost completely tuning it out. All she could think about was the crime scene she’d just vacated. 

She took a step back, sagging against the cold concrete of the wall behind her. The chill seemed to leach through her thick sweatshirt and directly into her bones. She was a criminal. Well, she had been for awhile, technically, but now she was _really _a criminal. Escaping Danganronpa custody was hardly worth counting. Most anyone with a brain would attempt that. Accessory to murder...that was a bit different. 

“I...I don’t care about any of that, okay?” She was well aware that she sounded a little whiny, but in this situation, she was pretty sure she was entitled to. There was blood spatter on her that she hadn’t noticed before, tiny droplets of red drying on her clothes and shoes. Small and sparse enough not to be noticeable against the dark colors she was wearing, she hoped. “I care about not going to prison. So could we focus on that, maybe?”

“You’ve likely already been witnessed in the vicinity, and you have a connection to the victim. You have a motive,” they said crisply. “If you continue acting so frantic, you will only be making yourself seem more suspicious, and rest assured, I will make no attempt to save you. The choice is yours, Yumeno-san.” Shinguuji shrugged, like there was simply nothing for it, and gestured towards the exit. “Shall we go?”

Himiko scuffed the toe of her sneaker against the ground, a mutinous look on her face. She didn’t really know much about this kind of thing in the real world, but what they said made sense, unfortunately. Her best option was probably to just go along with it for now, until she was out of immediate danger. Then perhaps she could reunite with Saihara and Harukawa, get her life back to some semblance of being on track. This was just a minor detour. She’d been through worse. 

“Fine, whatever. But this is basically kidnapping, you know? I didn’t ask to get abducted today.” 

Shinguuji arched an eyebrow, lips quirking into what might have been a faint smile under their mask. 

“I’ll strive to keep that in mind.” With that, they led the way out, into the darkened parking garage beyond. Himiko followed, yanking up her hood as she did. They weren’t even out in the rain yet, but it gave her some small measure of security, making it just a bit harder to recognize her at a glance. Somehow, Shinguuji didn’t seem concerned at all, despite looking _way_ more objectively suspicious than her. They just continued at a brisk pace, forcing her to slip into a ridiculous looking half-jog to keep up. 

“Where are we going?” Once they were out from under the cover of the garage, she purposely stepped in every puddle she came across, hoping it might rinse some of the evidence from her shoes, at least. Despite the late hour, there were plenty of people out on the rain-soaked streets, enough to make Himiko wince every time they passed under a streetlight. 

“I haven’t the faintest idea.” Great. Super reassuring. Not missing a beat, they reached out slightly when they passed a storm drain, dropping the bloodied knife they’d been hiding into the grate. She couldn’t stop herself from scoffing, feeling suddenly as if she was seventeen again. If she acted scornful enough, maybe it would mask the way it felt like her heart was trying to crawl up her throat. 

_A sickle under the floor, Chabashira’s blood dripping down between the boards. The telltale thunking noise she still heard in her nightmares sometimes. Shinguuji admitting to it, downright gleeful. _

“Some things never change, I see.” She crossed her arms tightly, trying to ward off the nighttime chill. That, and the coldness of Shinguuji’s very aura.

“I can’t imagine what you might be referring to, Yumeno-san. Now, perhaps we should catch a train? What do you think?”

“I don’t care.” She kept her gaze firmly on the ground, listening to the whoosh of traffic and splashing of puddles. Maybe if she tried hard enough, she could forget who she was with completely. 

“Alright,” they said with a put-upon little sigh. “Where have you been staying?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Himiko replied immediately, breath catching in surprise when she felt Shinguuji grabbing her arm. Abruptly, they pulled her out of the way of a gaggle of students pouring out of a nearby bar. “I’m not taking you there.” Then her gaze dropped to the crook of their elbow, a dark stain on their jacket. “You’re bleeding,” she said.

“It doesn’t matter,” they said, echoing her own words from seconds earlier. “It’s merely a superficial wound. Our current predicament is more important. I believe it was you who insisted we focus on ‘not going to prison,’ was it not? If you’re unwilling to take me home with you, where exactly do you suggest we go?”

“I don’t know.” Despite the cold, wet air, she felt her face grow hot. Would it kill them to watch their phrasing a little? Of course, knowing Shinguuji, the double entendre may very well have been intentional. “I can figure it out on the train. One thing at a time.”

She pulled her phone out of her pocket to check the time and swore under her breath, picking up the pace as much as she could without breaking into a run. Nearly 1:00 in the morning? Pretty soon, they’d be out of luck entirely on the transportation front. Himiko knew it was late, but not quite this late. It had only been around 11:00 when she got to Shirogane’s hotel. Time felt like a thick jelly, slowing down and speeding up at random.

Shinguuji seemed content to hurry to the station in silence, so that was what they did. Ideally, it might have been an opportunity for Himiko to think things through, but she couldn’t. Her brain was too overloaded to focus on any one thing.

It wasn’t until they were safely on the train that either one of them spoke again. They sat side by side in the least crowded car, looking, if they were lucky, like a couple headed home instead of a pair of outlaws on the run. Shinguuji looked a bit less conspicuous now, having unbuttoned their jacket, removed their hat, and tied their hair up in a ponytail. Their mask, of course, was still their most identifying characteristic, but Himiko knew better than to say anything about it. They didn’t seem to be getting any weird looks, at least.

“Why were you there, anyway?”

“Trying to get the money she owed me,” she mumbled, drawing one leg up onto the seat and leaning her chin against her knee. “I could ask you the same question.”

“That would be a rather fruitless endeavor. You know as much as I do, if not more.”

* * *

_Himiko felt horribly out of place. It was the kind of place she couldn’t afford even in her wildest dreams, vast and opulent. It looked nicer than her apartment, despite being just a hotel suite. Gorgeous views, tasteful colors, shiny marble fixtures...If this hadn’t been a surprise visit, she might have suspected Shirogane of choosing this suite specifically to make her feel inferior. _

_Speaking of Shirogane, she, like the room itself, looked better than she had any right to. Her hair was just as long as Himiko remembered, cascading down her back in glossy blue waves. She was wearing a black dress, tight, and there was no sign of her glasses. Planning to go out, maybe? Good. Himiko hoped she’d interrupted her plans for the night._

_ “Give me the money,” she said tightly, sick of the phony small talk. Almost three years since they’d seen each other last, and Shirogane was still every bit the evil mastermind, it seemed. Unaffected by Himiko’s tone, she offered her a placid smile, idly drumming her fingers against the countertop. Himiko could hear the tiny click click click of her freshly manicured nails against the marble._

_ “Hmm, no can do, Yumeno-san. I don’t have any money for you. And here I thought you were just paying an old friend a visit. That really hurts my feelings, you know.”_

_ “Your stupid company owes me **over five million yen,** not to mention Saihara and Harukawa. Just how sick are you, to put us through all that stuff and then not even pay us the amount we supposedly agreed on when we signed up?” She clenched a hand into a fist at her side, nails digging into the flesh of her palm. Shirogane was trying to wind her up, she knew that. She was ashamed to admit it was working._

_ “Team Danganronpa owes you nothing. All three of you violated the terms of your contracts. Perhaps you should have thought of that before ruining the finale.” Shirogane shrugged, then glanced over her shoulder, quick enough that Himiko almost didn’t notice. What was she looking at? “Now, if there’s nothing else you want to discuss...”_

_ “In a hurry?” Himiko asked lightly, not even sure why she was doing so. Her blood was humming with adrenaline, like just being in Shirogane’s proximity made her body think she was back in the killing game. She was operating on pure instinct, pursuing that split second feeling of unease when Shirogane looked away._

_ She chuckled, but it was short and breathless — forced. Was she nervous about something? Himiko frowned. The two of them were standing near the suite’s entrance, by the little kitchenette. Shirogane had been looking in the direction of the bedroom area, which Himiko couldn’t see into from this angle. But...what could be in there that she’d be nervous about? Surely she hadn’t been mid-hookup, she looked far too put-together for that. So...what was it? God, she wished Saihara was there. He’d be able to figure it out for sure._

_ “Well, I’m a very busy person, of course. It’s not nice to show up at someone’s door unannounced, especially at this hour. You’re being just plain inconsiderate.”_

_ “Y’know, Shirogane, you were never very considerate to us, so I’m not sure why I should care.” Just as she finished speaking, she heard an odd hissing noise, followed by a thud. _

_ It was like a switch had been flipped. Instantly, there was a look of panic in Shirogane’s eyes. One hand gripping the edge of the counter like a life raft, she whipped her head around, looking for something Himiko couldn’t see._

_ “You need to leave,” she said hysterically, and Himiko could feel her own heart speeding up too. Seeing Shirogane in a panic like this reminded her of the end of the killing game, and nothing good came with those thoughts. When she didn’t move, Shirogane turned towards her again, glaring. _

_ “Yumeno, get out of here **now**, or I’m calling the police.”_

_ She could hear footsteps now, faint and unsteady. The threat didn’t matter at this point — Himiko was frozen. She couldn’t even guess at what was about to happen, but she knew in her gut that it was bad. In any event, Shirogane wasn’t behaving like someone who was about to call anyone. She was flitting about anxiously, giving off the impression of being caught between her fight or flight reflexes, undecided. And as it turned out, she didn’t have much time to think about it. _

_Before Himiko had a chance to decide on her own course of action, the shambling figure of Shinguuji Korekiyo entered the room, remarkably intact._

_ If she thought she was frozen before, she was absolutely paralyzed now. Eyes wide with fear and disbelief, she leaned heavily against the counter, fearing her legs might give out. When she managed to tear her gaze away from Shinguuji, Shirogane looked not like someone experiencing the same horror as Himiko, but more like someone who’d accidentally let a massive secret slip out._

_ “What the hell have you done?” She barely recognized her own voice. It was as if she was somewhere outside of the scene, watching another version of herself confront Shirogane._

_ “I believe I’d also like an answer to that question, if you don’t mind.” Shinguuji spoke up for the first time, still just standing there watching the two of them._

_ “You’re...you’re not supposed to be conscious,” Shirogane stammered, keeping one eye on Shinguuji as she fumbled for her purse, digging through it for something. “This isn’t supposed...I have to...I have customers to think about.” When she withdrew her hand from the bag, she was holding a syringe._

_ “See what you’ve done?” Shirogane complained, gesturing wildly with the syringe as she glared directly into Himiko’s soul. “Sedatives need to be given on a **very precise** schedule, and you had to go and mess everything up.” That said, she started to approach Shinguuji, who seemed dazed. They didn’t move as Shirogane drew closer and closer, until she was within reach. _

_ Then, with almost inhuman speed, they lunged, slamming her against the wall. The force was enough to rattle the framed paintings nearby. Himiko could feel it in her bones. Shirogane whimpered, but still had a tight grip on the syringe. One of Shinguuji’s hands clamped around her wrist, and all Himiko could do was cower at the other side of the room, waiting to see how this would play out._

_ “Start talking,” they said._

_ “How...how about you just let me go before you hurt yourself? Then we can all just calm down and have a rational discussion.” _

_ “I have no interest in dying twice.”_

_Shinguuji laughed, but as they made a grab for the syringe, Himiko could see their hand shaking. With the needle at Shirogane’s neck, they hesitated, but clearly they didn’t like what they saw in her eyes. Their thumb depressed the plunger, and within seconds, Shirogane went limp. They dropped the syringe and took a single step back, letting her collapse to the floor._

_“Ah, Yumeno-san. I apologize for my rudeness. How fascinating it is to see you again. That fear in your eyes...I remember it well. I can assure you, however, that I mean you no harm. After my dear sister’s betrayal, I have much to consider about my future goals. And in any case...” They strode past her into the small kitchen area, glancing around until they spotted a dinner tray, clearly waiting to be taken back by room service. Bandaged fingers plucked a steak knife from the plate, and Shinguuji returned to Shirogane’s prone form. “I did mention that I was awfully close to 100, did I not?”_

_“In fact, Chabashira-san was number 99. Convenient, yes? I’m unsure how long I’ve spent drifting in and out of consciousness with our friend Shirogane as my captor, nor do I know the sort of world I’ve reentered. But this, at least, I can finish. Surely you understand.”_

_Himiko barely had enough time to look away. _

_There was a faint noise, barely noticeable at all, but it was quickly followed by a choked groan. Then Shinguuji’s voice, muttering ‘oh dear,’ in a tone that sounded almost amused. Some sort of friction against the carpeting — Shirogane struggling? A gasp, and then nothing._

_Himiko hesitantly started to look back in their direction, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Shinguuji straightening up, bloody knife in hand._

_“You...you...” She could feel herself shaking. Her gaze remained fixed on the floor, not wanting to look at Shirogane’s body._

_“Enlighten me, Yumeno-san. How much time has elapsed since we last saw each other?”_

* * *

“You can come to my place,” she mumbled eventually, lulled into complacency by the bustle of the train. “It’s okay.”

“What made you change your mind?”

She wanted to say it had something to do with the way they were holding themself now like they always used to. It had something to do with the deep loneliness in their eyes. It had to do with the meaning of their name, just and pure. Instead of saying any of those things, she shrugged, scuffing her shoe against the floor. She leaned closer until their arms bumped against each other. They smelled like a saline drip. Better than formaldehyde.

“I don’t want to give the media a reason to start talking about our class again. They would if you got arrested.”

Shinguuji hummed in acknowledgment. 

“I wouldn’t get arrested,” they said, voice hushed. “However could I have accomplished my goal if I was so easily caught?”

“You did get caught though.” She didn’t look to their face when she said that. She didn’t need to. All she needed to know was in the tight grip of their hand against their thigh, tendons standing out through the bandages. 

“I suppose you’re right.” 

Delicately, she placed her hand on top of theirs. Her fingertips traced over their bones, mapping out a person who should no longer exist, and slowly, they relaxed. Himiko had always liked it when Saihara did this, stroking through her hair or over her back or arm, just touching, purposeless. 

“Was it worth it?”

For a long while, they were silent, and she regretted saying anything at all. They lifted their free hand to their face, fingers covering their masked lips. 

“I thought so at the time.”

“And now?” 

“I’d like to say I have an answer, but I do not.” Their hand lowered slightly, fidgeting with their locket. Himiko sensed that the conversation was over. She wouldn’t know how to reply anyway, and the train was getting closer to their stop.

Soon enough, she was getting up and grabbing their arm, muttering a hushed ‘C’mon.’ As they got off the train, she thought she could feel people watching them, but she hoped it was just her imagination.

“What will Saihara and Harukawa think of you bringing me home, I wonder? You did mention them as your fellow survivors, correct?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Himiko said, staring at the ground as they walked. “They’re...not home tonight, so it’s fine. Not like you’re staying forever.”

“Oh? Where are they?” Shinguuji didn’t comment on the implication that they were only welcome for a single night, despite the fact that they had nowhere else to go. Himiko didn’t mean it anyway, deep down, but she wanted to. They could probably tell, judging by the minute raise of an eyebrow. She shivered and tried to pretend it was from the cold.

“Out of town. None of your business.”

The apartment building she called home wasn’t much to look at. It was only a few floors, compared to the high-rises lining so many city streets, and older. Nothing horrible — she and the others could afford to live in relative comfort, but with a distinctly unloved air about it. Once again, Shinguuji didn’t comment as they climbed the stairs to the third floor. She had no idea what they might be thinking, and the realization made her uncomfortable, hunching in on herself. 

She fished the key out of her pocket, fingers still achy and half-numb from the damp cold outside. Shinguuji was close, close enough that her arm accidentally brushed against them, and the surprise made her drop her keychain on the floor. It stared up at her from the dirty carpet. Danganronpa 53 promotional merch, limited edition. Shinguuji always had some of the cheapest merchandise. Nobody wanted it. Himiko was seized with the sudden urge to stomp on it, break the plastic charm as if that would change the fact that they’d surely already seen it. Instead, she just snatched it up as quickly as possible, nearly dropping it all over again in her haste to jam the key in the lock.

“Have you considered investing in gloves?” Of all the things they might have said to break the silence, she hadn’t been expecting that.

“What?” she retorted, exasperated, as she opened the door and flicked on the entryway light. 

“It’s cold at night this time of year. It makes you clumsy.” Shinguuji’s hand wrapped around hers, and the warmth felt nice, but Himiko jerked away anyway, brushing past them into the apartment. 

“I have gloves,” she muttered. “Close the door. You’re gonna let the cat out, he always tries to escape.”

As if on cue, Ryu came trotting over, mewing insistently. Instead of coming to her, as was his wont, he made a beeline for Shinguuji, headbutting their leg with another squeaky meow. Glancing over at them, the stupid, traitorous keychain still clutched in her fist, she saw that they were hugging themself again. 

“What’s his name?” 

Himiko was already in the kitchen when she heard the question, preparing tea on autopilot. She needed something normal to do in the midst of all this abnormality. 

“Ryu,” she called back. She took two mugs out of the cupboard — the shimmery red one she favored and a chipped, grayish one with what was really a rather ugly whale on it. It had been a thrift store find, and made Harukawa laugh for the first time in so long that they just had to buy it. Only four other mugs sat on the shelf. With a total of six, they could go two days without washing them. It was better like that, being forced to do chores so they wouldn’t pile up forever. Lost in thoughts about coffee mugs and apartment upkeep, she didn’t notice the approaching footsteps until she looked up and saw that Shinguuji had joined her in the kitchen. Ryu was in their arms, purring contentedly and leaning up in an attempt to nuzzle their face. Himiko had to bite her lip to stop herself from smiling.

“I wasn’t able to have pets as a child. Nobody was home often enough to care for one properly, and fur clinging to everything would aggravate Sister’s lungs.” They said this quietly, distantly, as if in a trance. “Everything had to be very clean.”

“He likes you.” She slid a cup of tea along the counter towards them, the ugly whale mug. She already explained Danganronpa as much as she could, so she didn’t comment when they mentioned their sister. They knew. That took the sting out of it, and Himiko mostly just felt sad.

“Thanks,” they said, nodding towards the tea. They made no move to pick it up, still holding Ryu. While he was happy to cuddle and be pet on his own terms, he didn’t usually let people hold him so long. She felt like this should seem like a betrayal, but to her own surprise, it didn’t. Shinguuji clearly needed the affection. She nodded, picking up her own mug and wandering out to the living room.

* * *

Shinguuji was smoothing out the papers on the coffee table like they contained the secrets of the universe, hands nearly trembling with pure reverence. There were a few different documents from what Himiko could see — an instruction manual, something that might be an invoice or an order form, and a page of handwritten notes from Shirogane herself. They were wrinkled and lightly water-stained, but still perfectly readable.

Himiko leaned a little closer, straining to see what the maybe-invoice said. Shinguuji’s entire body went taut and they snatched the papers away from her, turning so she couldn’t see.

“Okay, okay, jeez. I could just use my magic to find out anyway, if I really wanted to.” Tea long since finished, she got up from the couch. Ryu gave her a disdainful look, then resumed grooming a paw, snuggled against Shinguuji’s leg. While she went about her nighttime routine, she hid the lint roller in her sock drawer, just because. Orange fur stood out against dark green.

What could Shinguuji be hiding? The papers were obviously from Shirogane’s hotel room, she knew that much. Just before they made their escape, Shinguuji had stepped back into the other room for a moment, and Himiko saw them shoving the folded up documents in their jacket when they emerged. But whatever secrets they might hold, they certainly wouldn’t be incriminating to Shinguuji, who had been...dead? Comatose? In _some_ sort of dubious state of existence for years. Why hide it from her, when she was their only potential ally?

When she couldn’t stall anymore and wandered back out of her room, they were shaking. Not a completely unfamiliar sight. In her experience, it seemed to be the first thing to slip when they were really struggling to maintain their composure. That was something she could relate to, as was the intense need for said control in the first place. The two of them were more similar than they seemed at first glance. Himiko had always been glad no one else seemed to notice it.

It wasn’t until she got closer, no longer able to make a discreet escape, that she realized they were crying. _That_ was new. She sucked in a quiet breath, averting her eyes and wishing she was anywhere but here. Even when Saihara or, more rarely, Harukawa cried, she never knew what to do. It always made her uncomfortable, restless. Inadequate. 

Turning and walking away didn’t feel right. So she sank down into the beat-up armchair across the room, as far as she could get without actually leaving, and examined her fingernails until they finally said something.

“Does the name ‘Tsurumaki Corporation’ mean anything to you, Yumeno-san?” Their voice was still a little wobbly, but Himiko deemed it safe to look up from her hands.

“No. I’ve never heard of it. Why?”

“Apparently they produce...life regeneration technology.” Shinguuji was looking down at the documents again, a few errant pieces of hair falling into their face. “Such as the...absurd contraption I was kept prisoner in.” They held up the instruction manual for her to see. The image on the cover depicted something that resembled a very sci-fi casket. “‘For all your cadaver restoration needs, designed for long-term use. This device is only suitable for cadavers with intact brains, view page 7 for details. Results may vary.’”

“Wow,” she said, not sure how to respond. “That’s...crazy, but, I mean...I didn’t need some official manual to tell me something like that must exist. The fact that you’re here talking to me is proof enough.”

“I wasn’t finished. There’s more.” They brandished the invoice now, though they didn’t actually give it to her to read. “Shirogane was doing this for profit.”

“For...profit...?” Shirogane’s voice echoed in her ears, saying that she had customers to think about. That’s right, she said that, but surely...

“What we now think of as human trafficking has existed for as long as humanity itself. Brutal, yes, but seemingly natural, exploiting others for one’s own benefit. The violence of our species...surely you can no longer deny such a thing after all you’ve experienced.”

“But...you can’t mean...”

“Ah, but I can. Based on what I can gather from these documents, the reason I was in that hotel tonight is simple. I was scheduled to be delivered to my...new home tomorrow. Shirogane sold me to a medical research facility.” Shinguuji explained it so calmly that Himiko was sure she must have misheard.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” she protested. To think of any of her friends being subjected to such a fate...Even Shinguuji, as arguably evil as they were, didn’t deserve that. There must be some kind of mistake. “Isn’t that for dead people? Why would she bring you back to life for that instead of just selling your body or whatever years ago?”

They didn’t answer right away. They just sighed, setting the papers aside and reaching out a hand to idly stroke Ryu.

“Tell me, what condition was my body in at the end of that execution?”

Without meaning to, Himiko lifted a hand to her mouth, trying to partially hide her expression of disgust.

“I prefer not to think about it.”

“Then I believe you have your answer right there. The better condition a body is in, the higher the profits, yes? If I had to make an assumption, I’d say that my consciousness was merely an unfortunate consequence in their eyes. Perhaps they intended to kill me again, more neatly this time. It’s hard to say, given the limited information I possess.”

“So if I hadn’t been there to mess up Shirogane’s schedule...” The horror leaked into her voice, unmistakable.

“Yes. You probably saved my life.”

“And does that mean...the others...?” Were all of her ‘dead’ friends being bought and sold on the black market for nefarious purposes? It didn’t seem impossible. What reason would there be to only inflict such things on one person out of twelve? Or eleven, she supposed, if you excluded Kiibo. Shinguuji shrugged, still as cool as could be, like they hadn’t been crying over this realization just a short while ago.

“Who’s to say? Neither of us have a definite answer, and I don’t think any hypothesis of mine would bring you comfort.”

“Yeah. Probably not.” In shock and at a loss for what else to say, Himiko grabbed the remote, turning on the TV. For awhile, there was an uneasy peace between them, silence broken only by the baking competition onscreen.

* * *

“Hey, uh, you can sleep in Saihara’s room if you want.” She leaned against the doorframe, staring at the tangle of throw blankets that contained Shinguuji. “You don’t have to stay on the couch.”

“How long have they been missing?” 

The response sent her stomach plunging towards the Earth’s core. Blanching, Himiko shook her head. Something about letting them be right about this was impossibly difficult.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she mumbled. 

“Saihara and Harukawa. They’re not just traveling, are they? The way you’ve been behaving all night, the appearance of our surroundings...” They extended an arm from their blanket nest to wave their hand expansively at the room around them. “Observing people is my specialty, if you’ve forgotten. Something is wrong.”

Without noticing, Himiko had wound her arms around herself in the same way they so often did, trying to shield herself from the world. She shook her head again, breath catching in her throat. Telling the truth felt equivalent to admitting she might be just as alone in the world as Shinguuji now. Shinguuji, who had gathered up nearly every blanket in the apartment other than the ones on the beds to curl up under. Shinguuji, who thought nothing of breaking every taboo known to man, including murder. Those two were the same person, and it was difficult to wrap her head around it fully.

Soft and sharp all at once. Paradoxical. 

“A couple of weeks,” she said. “Team Danganronpa might have them, I don’t know.”

“Mm. Care to tell me what happened?”

“Not right now. You don’t need to know.” Her voice cracked. They sighed. 

“It was only a question. I intended to offer my help, but maybe that would be best left until tomorrow. Thank you for your hospitality, Yumeno-san.”

She nodded, beginning to turn away. There was nothing more that needed to be said, really. She could go off to bed and forget all about this situation until morning. So why was she hesitating? Maybe it was politeness, she decided, mumbling a halfhearted goodnight. It didn’t leave her feeling any more in the mood to leave Shinguuji, but when they responded in kind, she forced herself to walk away regardless. Himiko was halfway to her room when she heard them speak up again.

“Maybe you’d like some company?”

She froze, eyes wide. In the couple of seconds it took to whirl around to face them, her cheeks had gone as red as her hair.

“What?” 

“A-ah, just a joke. Please, never mind.” They adjusted their mask, tugging it higher. “I just remembered your old...hesitance about being alone. I’m sure you’ve long since gotten over such things.” She hadn’t, really. The quiet, still apartment felt unnatural without the presence of her friends. Himiko had been having trouble sleeping the whole time the two of them had been gone, but how did Shinguuji know that? Was it just a good guess, or was she really so transparent?

“Yeah, something like that,” she mumbled. “Saihara’s room is the first one on the left. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Certainly. The same goes for you.” 

Not allowing herself to wonder what they might have in mind, she hurried down the hall to her room, closing the door behind her. Everything would be better after getting some sleep. All these old feelings would settle down again. They had to.

* * *

She got only a few hours of restless sleep. It was still dark out by the time she gave up on rest and rolled out of bed, tugging on a sweater. Maybe she could get some reading done or find a decent movie to watch. The shadows dancing in the hall felt even more eerie than usual, and Himiko flinched when she felt Ryu brush against her leg.

“Shh,” she breathed, bracing herself for a stream of meows. The last thing she wanted to do was accidentally wake Shinguuji. She crept past their (Saihara’s) room, keeping an eye on the fuzzy shape of Ryu in the dark so she wouldn’t trip over him.

She reached the equally dark living room silently and without issue. Letting out a sigh of relief, she looked up, only to shriek at the unexpected sight of a figure on the couch.

“God,” she muttered, hand resting against her racing heart. “You scared me.”

To their credit, Shinguuji had the decency to look a little guilty, something that was more obvious than usual without their mask. As her eyes slowly adjusted to the dark, she could see that they were struggling to hold back a smile, but she’d take it. Good enough.

“Yeah, yeah,” Himiko grumbled softly. “So funny.” Rolling her eyes, she trudged over to join them on the couch. Something about the early morning darkness made the words come easier. It softened out all the sharp edges. Himiko was just Himiko. Shinguuji was just Shinguuji. Not Ultimates, not survivors or killers. Just two people awake way too early.

“Ah—!” As soon as her words sank in, they lifted a hand to their face, as if they’d forgotten it was exposed. “I apologize for startling you. I was having trouble sleeping and decided to come back out here.” 

“Yeah, same here.” She didn’t bother turning on a light. For some reason, it was more comfortable talking to them in the near darkness. Shinguuji probably felt the same, if they left their mask in Saihara’s room. Himiko sighed, and Ryu jumped up next to her, purring.

Neither of them spoke, or made a move to do anything other than sit there. The distance between them gradually closed. Himiko started to doze off again, just a little, and found that Shinguuji spread part of their blanket over her. She smiled and made a vague noise of gratitude.

When she started to lean against them, they wrapped an arm around her, and still neither of them said a word. However, the silence couldn’t last forever.

“I think I owe you an apology, Yumeno-san.” Shinguuji shifted uncomfortably and cleared their throat. “I know the history between us is rather old now from your perspective, but that’s not the case for me. In the brief moments of consciousness I’ve had over the past two years, I had no sense of time. It feels as though I...died just a few days ago.” They hesitated, and Himiko braced herself, waiting to hear what was coming.

“I probably owe you an apology for a great many things, actually. But it’s necessary to start somewhere, so...I’m sorry if I...misled you in any way. Your kindness was truly appreciated, and I regret that I wasn’t in a position to respond in kind.”

“Oh. That’s...well...” She didn’t know how to respond. There was an entire flock of butterflies in her stomach. Himiko rubbed the corner of the blanket between her thumb and index finger, thinking. “We don’t need to talk about that.”

Pulling a rose from a handkerchief was doubly impressive in a place where it was difficult to obtain real roses at all. By the time she worked up the nerve to perform the trick for them, it had started to wilt, but Shinguuji didn’t seem to mind when they accepted it. They praised her skill as a mage, and she thought at the time that maybe her budding crush was returned. That rose was the culmination of all the nervous, awkward conversations she had forced herself to engage in, all for the sake of getting to know them better. They murdered Angie twelve hours later. 

“It was a long time ago,” she said. 

“Not for me, as I just finished explaining to you. I’m under no illusions that your opinion of me has remained the same, but I regret hurting you regardless. I’m beginning to feel remorse for what I did to you. That alone is worth celebrating, I believe. I wasn’t capable of such a thing before my...rebirth.” 

“That’s...good then.” Himiko still had no idea how to respond. She used to imagine what it would be like to find out that Shinguuji was alive after all, or what it would have been like if they hadn’t killed Angie, but her imagination was nothing like this. “But no need to act like you owe me or whatever. It’s probably better to just...start fresh. Like you said, things have changed.”

“Why did you help me then? Why did you choose to accompany me and offer me shelter instead of just fleeing the scene, or even turning me over to the police? That seems like the logical thing to do when confronted with the sight of someone you hate committing yet another murder.”

Shit. They had a point. Himiko bit her lip, struggling to think of a response that wouldn’t be completely humiliating to give.

“It’s complicated.” Cliche, hackneyed, but better than admitting out loud that there was still some small part of her that _cared, _after everything.

“Most meaningful things are, wouldn’t you say?”

* * *

Progress was slow over the next couple of days. Himiko still couldn’t quite make sense of her feelings — sometimes she felt guilty for being kind to Shinguuji, and other times she was nervous about even being around them. They still hadn’t talked much about any difficult topics, of which there were many. That painful history would have to be unearthed at some point, but recovering from that night at Shirogane’s hotel took priority. 

Nobody was reporting much on the murder, but from what she could tell, nobody was onto them. Slowly, they could begin to let their guards down. They lived quietly, sticking close to the apartment save for a shopping trip for Shinguuji. 

“Are you planning to do anything about your friends?” The situation with Saihara and Harukawa was one topic that Himiko managed to broach, mostly because she knew Shinguuji wouldn’t let it go without some kind of explanation. 

“I don’t know what I _can_ do. If they’re in trouble or something, I’m not the kind of person who can swoop in and rescue them,” she mumbled. “Harukawa even told me not to follow. Saihara was the one to go investigate some shady Danganronpa stuff in the first place, and once he was gone for a few days with no news, she went after him. She told me to stay behind where it was safe, so she wouldn’t have to worry about looking after me.” It stung, but she understood. She was useless in a fight.

“That was when you were alone,” Shinguuji pointed out. The sun was setting, casting a pinkish-orange glow over everything. The moment felt...almost domestic.

“What are you saying?”

“Harukawa-san was concerned about your safety. She clearly thought the potential for violence was high enough to warrant leaving you behind.” They seemed to be waiting for some kind of response before continuing, so Himiko nodded, giving a soft hum of agreement.

“If you can be protected without diverting her attention away from Saihara-kun, that changes the equation. You can do something about the situation as you’ve wanted to. I...need to find a new purpose in life now that I’ve achieved my goals. There’s no reason we can’t do some investigative work of our own.” She looked over at them, searching for any hint that they might be joking about this, and found none.

“Are you saying you want to help me find them?” 

“I’m saying I insist. And besides,” they smiled, eyes glittering with mirth, “we may find something interesting to observe along the way.”

“You insist? That’s basically kidnapping, you know,” she joked, echoing her much more serious words from just a few days before. It was impossible not to feel some amusement of her own bubbling up in response. Seeing Shinguuji genuinely happy felt like a rare treat. Himiko didn’t know how she missed all the burdens they used to carry.

They reached over to take her hand, still smiling. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be some quick 1-2k thing and it turned into something completely different, but hopefully i'm getting back in the groove of writing some longer pieces! ngl the keychain/gloves scene was my fave. the yearning...
> 
> i'd love it if you lmk what you thought! bonus points for anyone who noticed the sneaky bandori cameo


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